


Florida Man

by eldritcher



Series: A Four Chord Carousel [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drugs, Epilogue to Republic, Fluff, Happy Ending, Humor, Love, M/M, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:40:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29092893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldritcher/pseuds/eldritcher
Summary: In which Harry is summoned to see to Dumbledore's estate in Florida. Voldemort tags along."Are those Lamborghinis?" Harry exclaimed, horrified, when he had finally managed to find Dumbledore's little bungalow tucked away in Miami's Coconut Grove, scarce ten paces from the Bay of Biscayne.Lined neatly in rows of two, were six red Lamborghinis."Lambos," Voldemort explained. "The drug lords call them Lambos."
Relationships: Harry Potter/Voldemort
Series: A Four Chord Carousel [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1305938
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22
Collections: Epilogues to eldritcher's old stories





	Florida Man

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Republic](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/752172) by eldritcher. 



> Epilogue to [Republic](https://eldritcher-hp-fics.dreamwidth.org/1464.html). 
> 
> (Warning for recreational drug use)

"So he left you a bungalow in Florida?" Harry asked, flabbergasted.

"There was a Cuban drug operation squatting there, when I went last year," Snape explained. 

"And?" 

"Albus had given them a ninety-nine year lease. They seemed as if they could afford the rent. I did not see the need to disturb them." 

Harry pinched his nose. Snape was not the most forthcoming of men. Little wonder why he had waited until he had no other option, before coming to Harry with this tale of woe and poor choices. 

"Is the lease binding?" 

"I doubt it. He wrote it on whaleskin. The American Wizarding Courts don't accept anything written on the epidermis as binding. Their history of slavery, you see." 

"If these intrepid lodgers can afford the rent, why are you worried?" 

"I was fucking Bellatrix." 

"Go on." 

"She sang to me a secret or two, when she was dancing on my tongue." 

"As one does," Harry nodded seriously, fighting to keep a straight face.

"Amidst the garbled praises to my parents, she said the American Ambassador had come roaring into the morning meeting, talking about British Headmasters turning Florida into a drug den."

There had not been many British Headmasters who had retired in Florida. 

"We must safeguard his reputation and legacy," Snape insisted.

Harry doubted that Dumbledore would have clutched his pearls and screamed had he heard about the drug operation he had helped establish.

"Snape." 

"I have a job! You are a house husband." 

Snape expected there would be a diplomatic fracas, and blows with the Americans. Wisely, he had dumped the problem on Harry.  
  
"Why did he leave _you_ a bungalow in Florida?" Harry complained. 

"You have a house in the South of France! I am a poor salaried man striving to survive."

"Well, I have to keep Voldemort in the style he is accustomed to." 

"Ha! That you could even hope to! Abraxas Malfoy had once raised for him a castle in Spain." 

"It is the haggis that keeps him around." 

"And the cock," Snape said pertly. 

"And the cock," Harry admitted, with no small amount of pride. His cock was in tip-top shape, a learned adventurer that knew to plough and please. 

\-----

"I am going to Florida," Harry said that night. 

Voldemort lazily nipped at his nose. It was as good an expression of curiosity as anything else. 

"Dumbledore left Snape a bungalow."

"Severus must have faked his will," Voldemort ruminated. 

Harry suspected that too. 

"The lodgers are giving him trouble."

"Lodgers? Albus had lodgers in his house?" 

"They are a Cuban drug operation. The good sort, you know. They pay the rent on time."

"Albus did always strike me as the quintessential Florida man." 

Harry supposed that was true. How many times had Hermione, Ron, and Harry stared horrified at Dumbledore's displays of flamboyant eccentricities? He forcibly dragged himself back to Provence, to his bed where Voldemort lay warm and sleepy, as a well-pleasured man ought to. 

"You will have to entertain yourself until I return."

"I am coming with you." 

"To Florida?" Harry asked, surprised. "There are no statues of Augustus there for you to ogle." 

"No, but they have alligators. Alligator penises are always erect, did you know? I funded alligator studies a few years ago to understand this mystery. It was riveting."

Harry promised himself, then and there, that he would make haggis out of all the alligators before one came with that ever-ready penis near Voldemort. 

\------

Florida turned out to be humid and rainy. 

"Can you stop carrying the rain with you?" Harry demanded.

"Florida is a tropical paradise, Harry," Voldemort said, unruffled by the humidity and the mosquitoes. "I wonder if we shall see those spiders! I shall have to take one back to gift Bella."

"She does not need a venomous pet to aid her lethal hijinks," Harry muttered. "Can you spell me up?" 

"I thought you might never ask!" Voldemort said merrily. "I invented this spell to make corpses last longer. It ruins the ambience when your Inferi are rotting in the water." 

Harry was too relieved by Voldemort's perfect air-conditioning spell to complain.

\-----

"Are those Lamborghinis?" Harry exclaimed, horrified, when he had finally managed to find Dumbledore's little bungalow tucked away in Miami's Coconut Grove, scarce ten paces from the Bay of Biscayne. 

Lined neatly in rows of two, were six red Lamborghinis. 

"Lambos," Voldemort explained. "The drug lords call them Lambos." 

Voldemort had finally given into his wheedling and bought Harry a Porsche for his last birthday. He had set his expectations low, clearly. 

Harry made up his mind to ask for a Lamborghini for his next birthday, and trudged up the driveway. There were children's bicycles piled up on the porch. He knocked on the front door. 

A burly, swarthy man, in a black turtleneck and wearing many gold chains and bracelets, opened the door a crack. Half his face was scarred. 

"Ecstasy," Voldemort whispered to Harry. 

Harry pretended he had not heard that. This studied ignorance of his partner's quirks, he had taken from Petunia's book. It had served him well so far.

"I came to discuss ending your tenancy," Harry told the Cuban. 

Bullets bounced off from Voldemort's shield charm. 

"Can you break their guns?" Harry demanded, as they hastily beat a retreat, putting the Lamborghinis between them and the crazy gun wielding maniac. "They are mad! They will bring the bobbies down here!"

"It is Florida," Voldemort said, as if that explained everything. 

"Get rid of their guns!"

"I am not here to facilitate your dealings with drug lords. I am here to procure an alligator." Voldemort tilted his head thoughtfully, and added, "And to keep you alive. You are handy about the house." 

Oh, if there weren't a rainbow of bullets bouncing off Voldemort's golden shield, Harry would have bent him over the bonnet of one of the Lamborghinis then and there, and taught him a lesson or two!

Given the circumstances, he scowled a mighty scowl that promised consequences, and picked up his wand of olive, and went to make peace with the drug dealers. The removal of guns, in his mind, was a necessary prerequisite to initiate dialogue, so he saw to that first. 

"They don't seem pleased," he commented, when he landed all the broken armaments in a scrap of burning metal neatly beside the children's bicycles.

"Try not to get murdered," Voldemort encouraged him. "I am off to inspect their laboratories." 

"Don't steal their drugs!" Harry called after him. 

"Pray, spare me your suburban morals!" 

Perhaps the alligator could occupy Voldemort and keep him out of the drugs, when Harry could not. He was beginning to see the advantages of an ever-ready erection. 

The drug mafia were willing to compromise with Harry, remarkably mellow and acquiescing to his terms. Perhaps he ought to inspire the American government with this example of how peace and understanding served the greater good than any war on drugs could. 

"You are good lodgers. You pay the rent on time. Besides, Albus liked you. I don't want to turn you out. You must stop the hard drugs, though!" 

No more hard drugs, they agreed. 

"Marijuana is fine," he allowed. "Don't sell it to the kids." 

They agreed to his conditions. 

"Make sure to give ten percent of your profits to charity!"

There, all in a day's work. Harry was the dove of peace this sad world needed desperately.   
  
\------

He found Voldemort tinkering with the lab equipment, eyes narrowed in focus as he distilled and titrated. 

"Have you had ecstasy, before?" Voldemort queried.

"I would like to keep all my teeth." 

"Wouldn't you like to know how it is to be an alligator?" 

"Together," Harry said grudgingly. "And only the once!" 

"Oh, Harry, this shall nearly match sex on haggis."

Haggis was not a drug. Harry did not want to start that argument again. They did enjoy transcendental sex after a meal of haggis. 

"Ecstasy is an empathogenic drug," Voldemort explained. "It increases sensations of pleasure, intimacy, and empathy. It is used in psychotherapy."

He made it sound as healthy as spinach. 

They ended up on the beach, high and happy, and fucking each other silly in the rain, on the sands, despite the mosquitoes and the drug lords watching them. Alligators had not a bad life, Harry mused, as he lay back and let Voldemort ride his ever-ready cock. 

"I want to fuck you in the bay," Voldemort said. "Let us have submarine sex." 

"What a terrible idea," Harry muttered, senses shot by stark pleasure, finding Voldemort lovely and precious right then. "Why not?" 

So they fucked in the bay. Neither of them were swimmers, but what did that matter when there was ecstasy and magic? Voldemort took him without care or mercy, and only their excellent spellwork kept them from drowning. 

"You can have one pet alligator," Harry allowed, as they lay spent on the beach. 

The drug lords had left them shaved coconuts. Harry could get used to this. He was beginning to see why Dumbledore had extolled the life of a Florida Man. 

"I want a Lambo," Harry demanded. 

"Ecstasy on Christmas." 

"Don't push your luck."   
  
Voldemort laughed and bent to kiss him sweetly, lucid and ablaze in love. 

This alchemy of hearts was theirs to live. 

Harry held his benediction close, there on those sands, and they watched the ships come back to port at sun's set. 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Republic is available on [Dreamwidth](https://eldritcher-hp-fics.dreamwidth.org/1464.html). 
> 
> If the stars align, we can do one more of these, before resuming our usual programming on [Pandemic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860678).


End file.
